


stay with me and be mine my love

by sultrygoblin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Prince!Peter, Smut, femdragonslayer!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: fantasy au- one shot - “there are things far more terrifying than slaying monsters in this world, my girl, and those are the things i can never prepare you for.”
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	stay with me and be mine my love

**Author's Note:**

> @asadmarveltrashbag is to thank for this. i hope everyone loves it as much as i know she will. ... i mash a lot of stuff together for a flimsy fantasy world. look ... we both know what you’re doing here and i don’t need to explain myself

There’ll be a new scar down the length of your left forearm, you’re more surprised to find your leg working much better than it had in the beginning. At least the hit with the tail hadn’t been all bad. It had gotten you here after all. Trying to avoid it’s the flames as you rammed your sword into its' eye over and over, it’s attempts at knocking off not going quite to plan. Your armor is far too warm, the edges of your neck and wrists are already blistering from the heat but you had sworn an oath. Either the prince would be returned to his throne, intact, or you would die trying. It was very much your intent to make good on your promise and it was very lucky it would not be you meeting your end. Watching smoke puff unevenly from its; nostrils and the light began to leave its' eyes, you slammed your sword hard as you could between its’ eyes and held on for dear life. Right about now you’re sure the prince is happy for his high position because the mighty beast doesn’t fall lightly. The entire cavern shakes, you simply hold on, until the ground had eased and the falling rocks had become scrabbling pebbles.

“Next time you complaining about a lack of adventure, my lord,” you call, yanking your sword from tough flesh as you turned your face to his with a grin, “I might ask you to remember this!”

He didn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing as you but being held hostage will do that. Thankfully the lock wasn’t too difficult to pick and with both of you working together, the barred door managed to budge enough to allow him to slip out the side. Immediately you set to work examining him. Yanking his face close to yours, lifting his arms.

“What’re you- Stop it!” you dropped his arm suddenly, swiping your thumb through a particularly deep cut along his hairline, “OW!”

You shook your head, “There will be more where that comes from, sire. I was not so lucky has to happen upon a cleric along the way,” glancing towards the tunnel that lead toward the lair’s and quickly above it, “That is best left for when we make camp. Time to go!” grasping his hand and tugging him towards the entrance. 

Thankfully as all faithful squires did, Ned had waited to make sure you both were truly dead before leaving. That left the young man to tend to his liege lord while you made sure the entire group made it back to the kingdom safely. The dragon’s defeat did not necessarily mean safety. A wandering band of thieves and a particularly rude cyclops had made it very clear traveling with the young prince without his guard was incredibly dangerous. Not that you blamed him, it wasn’t his fault he had been born a highborn and that meant lots of people happily thought of him as an object meant to be traded rather than a person. It sounded equally exhausting as being sent from place to place as nothing more than a glorified assassin with a niche. 

Something you had lamented to him without realizing after you had felled two thieves and wounded the rest before you’d drug both the tired men deeper into the forest for camp. He couldn’t get to sleep on the hard ground, Ned’s snoring didn’t help. It’s why you were stuck taking most watches and pretending not to doze on your horse. It was odd to really talk to him. Arms around his knees with a face that seemed to convey that he would choose to be here every time. When it was his turn to speak you couldn’t help but listen. His kind voice still demanded attention and while the castle had always seemed like a dream it had been just another prison for him. You would have loved to chat more, instead you passed him water cut with a well-researched amount of nightshade. You told yourself it was to make sure he slept. You didn’t need anything stoking that tiny ember you had done well to smother. His kindness would do just that. There was no land where the prince would wed a lowborn knight.

The next night proved it would be a pattern. For almost a fortnight, days were spent in silence. Unless of course there was a skirmish or they had to trek off course. It’s why the week's journey had taken longer. At least that’s what you kept saying but Ned pointed out there were much faster, more hidden ways. The prince was happy to shut the man up for you. But he might have had a point as your nights were spent chatting about all sorts of things you had never expected to with a high born. He was intelligent, though he may have lacked real-world experience, and he had a habit of making you laugh even when you’d rather not. His squire had found it important to point out that you had even been smiling more. Prince Peter’s hush was far more aggressive in those moments. All to soon you arrived at the castle, just a little worse for wear. Peter was whisked away by his guard and servants were as you were gathered by Ser Rogers. No doubt your paltry stitch job would be fixed, he would be cleaned up, and placed right back on that throne. You had done exactly as you were supposed to. Whether you liked it or not, something had ignited that time. Your wandering glances, your supposedly smothered crush, was steadily becoming a full-grown fire in your chest.

It didn’t help that Ser Rogers had been giving you an unreadable smile since you’d walked through the city’s gates with the stolen prince and his squire in tow. You particularly didn’t like it when he was making you look presentable. Having won the argument about getting to wear trousers but having lost in terms of bodice and your hair. Thankfully he hadn’t taken that task upon himself, instead of asking one of the few other traveling knights to do it. Ser Roman wore that same smile as your mento’s, though you were much more scared to ask the woman. Rumour had it she had removed a young man’s tongue for commenting on her backside and suspected your knowledge of that might’ve been why she was chosen. You didn’t have a chance alone with Ser Rogers until you were standing in front of the closed doors to the throne room. He was adjusting your posture, your sword, as if you hadn’t accepted thanks and your reward a thousand times before.

Something you said quickly without thought and caused the smile on his face to fall, “You really have no idea do you?” earning him a raised brow and a short shake of your head, too much would cause it to tangle with itself. Something you had explicitly been warned against, “This isn’t some duke’s nephew who has been kidnapped by a cult. Or a village held hostage by goblins. This is our prince, surely you must have some idea-”

You’re sure he planned to tell you but the trumpets sounded, the doors opened, and with a face now completely taken over by concern he pushed you pass the doorway, standing in the middle of it with his hands behind his back. You wanted to turn and look, more so, you wanted to turn and run. You had never seen so many nobles and all of the women dressed in their ornate gowns made your best pants and blouse combined with the expensive bodice made you feel like a bar wench rather than the beautiful knight you had mere moments before. Still, your feet carried your down the red carpet with its ornate golden trim, your face that well-practiced mask of neutrality that had been the first thing you mastered in your training. Until you stood before King Antony, kneeling automatically on one knee with your eyes trained on the ground.

“There will be no need for that,” confused to feel his hand on your shoulder, urging your eyes upwards and the smile he greeted you with, "It would unbecoming for my future daughter to kneel before her father-in-law, would it not?” his cocky smile growing at your inability to hold back the confusion, “Stephen!” turning his gaze passed his hand towards the head of his guard, “Did you not warn this child before she walked in here?”

You winced at the balk of laughter from behind you, “I had assumed she would know,” keeping your eyes anywhere but Peter’s, “It isn’t my fault you were not clear on the terms of her reward!”

Your king sighed with a nod, turning his gaze back to yours, “You must hate when he is right just as much as I do,” which earned him a dumb nod, “Good to see you are still in there after all,” sliding his arm around your shoulder and forcing you to face your fate, “What say you, my son? If you won’t wed her I would happily do so myself.”

Your prince doesn’t wear that mask of unease he did on the road but the same interest and almost awe he had when listening to you speak, “If she would have me,” voice soft and kind as he had been since the beginning.

That fire is suddenly roaring, “I supposed a prince is the only token of thanks I have never received,” sweat prickles across your skin.

The room cheered, you could feel yourself getting dizzy. This was far different than saving the land from some foul beast. Or daydreams when forced to remain in the stone fortress of the capital. This was marriage and love. Things you were just now realizing Ser Rogers had never prepared you for. Had he just assumed you would figure it out on the road? He could have at least had Ser Barnes sit you down with a pint of ale and tell you the intricate nature of the birds and the bees, just as had been done with all the other fledgling knights. All the others had been men though. Peter moved on his seat but you inched your head with just the slightest shake, there were still expectations of a prince and a knight. No matter the circumstances. You focused on your breathing, accepting congratulations from a flurry of people you didn’t know as you made your way back to the door. Thankful the man had kept his post and was able to pass off keeping you steady as hauling you off and away from the crowd.

“Deep breaths,” he whispered as you made your way through a sea of eyes and whispers as all too quickly the news was spreading through the castle, and all too soon the land, “Only a few moments more.”

But it wasn’t a few moments more. It was a lifetime of more. So many things you now realized you had never been taught, never learned, things he had been preparing for his whole life. If you had to fight hard before, it would be much different as a princess, the future queen, and notorious monster slayer. You’d barely made it in the door of your chambers before your breathing became erratic. You couldn’t seem to catch it and you are sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

“I thought you understood what he meant when he promised you the kingdom,” you opened your eyes wide, leaning against the stone and doing your best to focus on a particular chipped stone on the floor instead of gulping breaths, “I can see how you would have thought he meant metaphorically. You don’t-”

“I want to!” you gaze turning to his harshly, your breath not coming easily yet but it didn’t seem to matter, “Do not mistake my jest for a lack of want, I just hadn’t...” 

Peter would have known, he would have assumed you did. It’s why you had spent your nights sharing things you hadn’t expected to, why he had respected your day time wishes of silence, it was the reason his father’s question had been more one of the sarcasm he was known for than anything else. While it came with a whole new host of questions you were glad to find your breathing had normalized.

“You have a lot to prepare for,” he laughed, stepping forward and pulling you into a tight hug, one that felt as close to a father’s as you would ever know, “There are things far more terrifying than slaying monsters in this world, my girl, and those are the things I can never prepare you for.” 

{}

Thankfully your marriage had started off with agreements, even if they had been passed through all manner of people. You would have a small affair in the water gardens for your true binding before the Gods, with the pressure gone you could plan a much more grandiose and political affair with little to lose if it went wrong. Which had given you three days to learn everything you must, which didn’t seem like a particularly long amount of time. You were given books, the women contradicting everything you had ever overheard from men. Apparently, women were far more complicated than men gave them credit for. You would have slain a thousand more dragons if it gave you time to learn not to disappoint. Which of course wasn’t at all the reason you were nervous, Ser Rogers would not let you forget that little fact. It was all absolutely terrifying. 

Until you were on your way to your wedding, in a dress. The corset may have been armor - and borrowed- but it was still a dress, something you still were not quite comfortable with. At least you had been afford flats and avoided most of the colors they wanted to smear on your face. Your hair had not been afforded the same fate and you had shaken it many times on the way to loosen its tight grip on the edges of your face. Much to Stephen’s -it was still very strange to call him by his given name- amusement.

“You know,” offering his crooked arm to you as you stood in front of the large door, waiting to make your final adventure as just a knight, “He has followed you around like a puppy dog since I brought you here,” you feel your cheeks heating up and you move to shake your head, “And sometimes you stared at him so hard I thought it was impossible he didn’t know. It would take a dragon for you two to manage it.”

“I am sure you meant something much nicer than that,” watching the door begin to crack and feeling a thousand butterflies fly around your body.

“Just because it feels new and strange does not mean it hasn’t always been there,” you really wished doors would stop opening when he was telling you something important. You suspected he wouldn’t have finished either way.

It is a short walk, his eyes are on you the whole time. He’s dressed as casually as a prince can be and it makes you smile. His eyes never stray from you and you find yourself in quite the same boat. Heart pounding so loud in your ears you can barely hear Abbe Danvers telling you to take hands, thankfully he seems to be able to. Some part of you is still convinced this is all a dream and you will wake at any moment with a rock digging into your lower back. 

“You will have to speak your vows sometime, child, we are not able to skirt the rules quite that much,” causing everyone to chuckle lightly and gives you a chance to remind yourself that this is real.

You clear your throat, realizing that all the words you had conjured up before had been wrong. Perhaps it was because you had not been able to look deep into those eyes that reminded you of Yule toffee chocolates. It feels far different, much more like that time you spent on the road. When talking had been very easy, that had been real so this must be too. If it could be like this, if he could always calm your nerves with just a sweet look then you were making the right decision.

“Back when I told your father I would bring you home, I thought I loved you, but that was not love,” you refused to cry but his own shiny eyes were making it difficult, you tightened your grip on his hand instead, “When we shared the deepest parts of ourselves each night, I thought I loved you, but that was again nothing more than deep infatuation. I think I love you now, and I pray you only give me the chance to spend my life in constant proving.” 

It had not been what you planned but it felt far more like what you meant. Unwilling to promise something you could not give, something he had mentioned admiring about you when planning how you would attempt to make it past the Cyclops’ den. You owed him the truest parts of yourself and those required no practice. You can hear Ranger Wilson snicker and make a jest to Ser Barnes about the young man having a difficult time topping that. Quiet grunts of pain make it clear Stephen has taken care of the distraction.

“I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage,” you lost all ability to hold back the tears completely, thankful they seemed more a light brook than a full river of them, “I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids. I love you,” whether he meant to or not, he tugged you just a bit closer with your clasped hands, “I have been saying it so long to you.”

You moved to wipe the tears from your cheeks and he beat you to it with a smile. There was a flurry of quiet aw through the small gathering before the Abbe continued with the binding of your hands. The sudden realization that when she told you to kiss it would be not just the first you shared with him, but the first-ever. You expected to be scared, terrified, instead, there’s a sense of calm when your lips meet for the first thing. Just lip to lips, his none bound hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer as applause erupted. It felt right. Much easier and second by second you could feel all your worries melting away knowing that you would be sharing all these things with Peter.

He pulls away gentle, “When I tell you,” his voice barely above a whisper, “Run,” a smile twisting his lips as he gripped the hand-bound to his tighter as you turned.

You weren’t quite sure what he meant until the small group descended. Even knowing them all it felt overwhelming. Many of them had gone from being far above your stature to now being a subject. Even now you were far closer to the King in standing than you had once been to Ned. 

“Now.”

You forever thankful for flats or it would have been a much more difficult run from the gardens to what would now be your shared chambers. Something that hit you hard when the door closed loudly and he seemed to notice very quickly because that kind smile is back in place. He doesn’t lead you towards the bed as you had expected- been warned about- instead, it is towards another set of doors and he seems as excited as you were to receive your first sharpened blade.

“I thought my first duty as your husband should be something for you,” twisting a knob with his free hand and look of faux consideration, “Maybe a little for me but almost entirely for you.”

That feeling of ease returns as you step through more doors into what could only be called a pool. Reminded you very much of the ones you had seen battling pirate’s in mermaid’s cove, but the water was steaming warm with fragrances and flowers floating on its’ top.

“It occurred to me you may have never gotten to have an honest to Gods bath. Soaps, oils, all that fancy highborn nonsense,” throwing your own passing comment back at you with a laugh, plucking at the ribbon and not at all surprising you when his nimble fingers untied it quickly, “First we have to deal with all this.”

“I dare say you are trying to get me out of my dress than anything,” both of you laughing as you spun and his fingers went to work on the corset.

“Then you would say so correctly,” the hefty weight of the metal disappears and there is a slight clang on the marbled floor behind you, “As I said, a little for me.”

“But only a little,” tossing a glance over your shoulder as he began to work on the next set of ribbons that held the dress closed, “It is ridiculous.”

That infectious smile on his face only grew, “Thankfully we only have to do it this once. After that, we can burn the rest.”

You had a pithy comment in the back of your throat when the equally heavy fabric dropped and left you in little more than the sheer slip that was still somehow finer than anything else you owned, including your bow. It still did little to calm your nerves, realizing quite suddenly the few men you had ever been nude in front of had seen you as little more than a ward or annoying sister. But the way Peter was looking at you made your entire body heat up. Somewhere between nervousness and thoroughly enjoying the sensation of his gaze tracing along you. He doesn’t pounce. 

Instead, he turns around, allowing you another bastion of modesty until you were completely comfortable in front of your new husband. Slipping off the silk and dipping a toe into the warm weather, the sudden and very true fact that soon you would be crossed your mind. You’d already defeated a dragon for him and bared yourself, there wasn’t much left than this. While that part of your mind that had still convinced itself this just could not be happening tried to scream at you, that young woman who had rammed her sword through more than a few beasts smothered it. Pulling your foot out of the water, a sound that caused his spine to straighten, you took a step forward.

“This doesn’t particularly seem fair,” surprised at the confidence in your voice and how well you held your shoulders back when he turned and you dared to grab the edges of his blouse, “For me. You on the other hand have a wonderful view.”

For the first time, his smile wavers and you hate that it turns your act just the littlest bit real. Or perhaps it’s just the realization he is nowhere near as assured as he is pretending to be. He lets you pull the fabric over his head and you’re almost surprised to see completely unmarred skin. You have no memory of ever seeing a man’s chest without there being at least a few scars. But the men you traveled with were warriors and fighters, not a prince. It saps that feeling of being even slightly in control from you, realizing now what he was really looking at. You can feel your shoulders begin to slump and it seems he won’t have that. His grip on them is tight, the way he rolls them back reminding you of classes as a child, but it comes with a light stroke of a particularly deep scar across the left one.

“What happened there?” dropping one of his hands and keep your eyes on his as he worked at the many buttons of his trousers.

You quell the urge to turn your gaze away, “Would you believe me if I told you a Kraken hatchling?”

“Yes,” he was quick with his answer and pushing you back towards the water, “At this point, I think it would be easier to list what you haven’t bested.”

Once again you’re not given the chance to respond because he’s spinning you again, something he seems to enjoy far too much. Perhaps because it seems to be the only time he’ll get one upon you. Neither of you mind.

“And this one on your back?” the fingertip tracing it and the hot water suddenly against your ankles, calves, sends goosebumps across your skin.

You swallow hard, focusing on how each muscle tenses and relaxes as he moves you both deeper and deeper into the water, “Centaur initiation trials. That stalagmite still holds the title for the closest thing to kill me.”

“How do you do that?” you spun in the water that had stopped just around your shoulders, “You talk about death as if it were any other day.”

The snort of laughter can not be helped, “It is most days outside the castle walls for me. As making decisions that change the lives of millions is yours most days inside. That will never change.”

His pensive look flits away just as quickly as it appeared, “I suppose it is much easier than trying to find an advisor who won’t just tell me what I want to hear in times of chaos.”

“That will never be a problem. Perhaps I should have worked that into my vows,” treading in the water lightly, surprised to feel his fingers curling around your wrist and tugging you closer.

Until he was able to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you tight against his hard chest. You’re not sure how he acquired the power to silence you completely but he has and seems quite intent on using it. Your arms slip around his shoulders, if only to balance yourself against the sudden movements and finding it pressed you entirely against him. You almost wanted to apologize, to pull back as your entire body caught on fire. It perhaps might have happened just from habit if Peter hadn’t continued with whatever plan he had clearly been concocting in his head since you’d grasped the shoulder of his blouse.

It is a very different kiss than the one you shared in front of friends and mostly family. It steals your breath away, it’s soft and deep all at the same time. He has no expectations of you it seems, content to embrace you just as he is now. You run a damp hand through his hair, moving your lips cautiously against his. He smiles, continuing his soft caress and nothing more as you tug ever so lightly on his bottom lip with your teeth. He hisses and you feel him pressing against your thigh. A gasp rips through you and he pulls away with what could only be described as a giggle.

“I thought you were being modest when you said you hadn’t much experience,” and though you want to look away in embarrassment you’re sure that would upset him more, “It might comfort you to know I haven’t either,” you can’t help your scoff at the words, “Everything I know, I learned from a book.”

You might have scoffed again if it weren’t for the fact sincerity seemed to ooze out of every pore. His grip on you tightening ever so slightly, his own form of worry that has no stopping. Women like you were interesting to men for a night but they would much rather marry their damsels saved from high towers. You understood the appeal, having done the same yourself. How many women had been interested in the prince for a night but not Peter?

“I was not afforded a book,” you laughed, not in true amusement but because it felt wrong to be dour, “I’m worried.”

“You’re worried, I am terrified,” he still managed to hold his smile, “You are far more complicated than I am,” resting his forehead against yours, “I think we are making far too big a deal of this.”

You nodded, “I think you’re right,” swallowing hard, letting your arms fall just a bit limp against his shoulders, “Now, I was promised soaps,” a cheeky grin making it’s way across your face.

“Indeed you were,” spinning you in a way you’re already much to accustom to and towards the other side of the water where all manner of pitchers and small golden pots littered the edge, “I thought you might want to pick it out for yourself.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant till you lifted the lid of the pitcher furthest to the edge and a smell that reminded you far too much of the dragon’s ashy mouth and the stone wall filled your senses. You slammed it closed, wrinkling your nose as you tried to push it out harshly through your nose. And while the next wasn’t your favorite, it was at least better than it’s predecessor. On and on until you couldn’t stop smelling a small bottle that had been stopped with a simple cork.

“It really is eery sometimes how well Ser Rogers knows you,” earning a laugh from him, “You said he found you, is that right?”

He took it from you, keeping himself behind you as he worked it into a sudsy mixture and tilted your head back to rinse it out of your hair. The entire time he listened as you recounted the story you had never dared to speak aloud. It was something you had not even spoken of with the man himself. But with Peter it was easy. So much so that you hadn’t realized you had been sitting between his legs, arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin on your shoulder until you had finished describing how it had felt to walk the castle grounds for the first time. And meeting him.

“He warned me. A prince is a prince, girl, you’re lucky enough to be a knight. Do not presume to ask the Gods for more,” doing an imitation of the man that made him snort, “I am quite sure he doesn’t even remember saying it but I never forgot.”

“Well, as the princess you are now in a very good position to remind him,” he pointed out, placing a soft kiss to your temple, “We can come up with some terribly annoying penance for him to perform,” beginning to rise to his feet, pulling you with him, “Until then, I have much more planned.”

“More?” raising your eyebrows with a giggle as he all but dragged you onto the dry floor and left you to stand there as he stepped off to the side, “Did you not finish the book?”

“Someone’s blossomed,” he laughed, reappearing with his own waist wrapped with linen and holding another to wrap around you, “Forgive me for wanting to spoil my knight in shining armor.”

“How dare you try to domesticate me, my lord!” you shot back, feeling him drape it around your shoulders and pull it closed, arm around your shoulder as he lead back towards the door you had entered, “You know...”

He nodded, “I do,” through the set of doors on the opposite side of the room, “That is exactly why we have to make sure every time is unforgettable. It could be our last,” placing another kiss on your head as he leads you towards a bed that was larger than your chambers.

“You are impossibly romantic,” stepping in front of him, darting one arm from between the linens to press against his chest, “How did I get so lucky.”

“Well, there was this dragon you see-”

You kiss him, tugging with more confidence on his plump bottom lip and letting the fabric flutter from your body as you pressed closer. He eagerly accepted your sudden surge of confidence, using it to urge you forward until you had fallen back and bounced on the impossibly soft bed. You had expected him to crawl over you but his lips moved down your neck, across your chest, you had barely managed to take in everything that was happening when he had taken a pert nipple in his mouth. It was a thousand times better than any sensation you had managed to bring about with your own fingers. All you could manage was a stuttered gasp but it seemed more than enough for him. 

“I knew you would come though,” it takes you a moment to wrap your mind around what’s happening, “I had always asked father to make sure it was you,” he continues with his story as he ghosts his lips to the other and repeating the action, “You should have seen you, darling, you were...” his lips against the sensitive skin of your stomach sends all the butterflies in your stomach straight between your thighs and the noise it draws from you is far too much like a squeak, “No, not quite,” sounding far too amused, with casting your eyes downward you’re greeted with a smile that confirms it, “I would have gone for beguiling.”

“It is very cruel to torture a woman who doesn’t know what she should be asking for,” but it comes out a breathy sentence, spaced in all the wrong places as he kissed over your stomach, along your hip.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want to be considered a cruel ruler,” he considered as his lips drifted closer and closer to the dip between your legs that had only ever been explored by your own fingers, “Or worse yet, a cruel husband,” his breath rolled across your lips and all you could do was whimper, “You never look away,” you nodded, a bit more eagerly than you had anticipated.

You had a lot of different thoughts about what might happen but it had never occurred to you that he would want to kiss you there. In all honesty, he seemed ravenous, the pressure of his tongue against you increasing with each long swipe of his tongue. Your eyelids fluttered and it took everything to not let them close, something he reward you with by latching onto the bundle of nerves that had always been your undoing after many tries with your fingers. This was not that. The moans tumbling from your lips seemed more instinct than anything else as he set you on fire in only the best ways.

“Gods you taste divine,” he moans, the words might’ve sent embarrassed heat rushing to your cheeks but in this moment all it does is heighten everything tenfold. Your hands have a mind of their own, digging into his hair as your hips thrust forward, “Beautiful and eager, my two favorite things.”

He once again steals the upper hand from you when he slips a finger in you, your body wants to arch, to flutter your eyes closed, squeeze your thighs around him. You do none of these things. Moaning and panting as his finger curls inside you and it feels like you’re flying. No. It’s far better than that. It is something indescribably magical. As if your entire body is buzzing all that matters is Peter and the way he makes you feel. It’s far different than the brief, harsh release you had brought yourself to a handful of times. This feels as if it can go on forever. Unfortunately, no feeling can and you crashed back to Earth with a shudder. Your entire body shook and you were sure you could take no more, your lovely husband seemed intent on proving otherwise. Another finger joins the ministration, his sucking now comes with the slightest graze of his teeth and tongue. There’s no stopping your eyes rolling back and whatever punishment he would offer in return seemed worth it to steep yourself in the onslaught of sensations.

Apparently, the punishment would be immediate as the sensations suddenly disappeared and left you keening in a way you didn’t know you were capable of and sure to regret later, “I thought it wouldn’t do to be cruel?” you don’t know where the words come from or how you manage to force them out, but you do. Even if they are followed by hums and an attempt at rubbing your thighs together in a desperate move for friction. He’s already slotted himself between your legs, looming over you with gaze darker than pitch.

“Promise me this isn’t a dream,” he begs, his need distracts you from the sudden taste of yourself on his tongue.

“I keep wondering the same thing myself,” your knees curling around his hips as you kissed him deeply, finding something oddly erotic in the way your tastes mingled, “This just might be real.”

His hand between you presses his weeping cockhead against your entrance, “I truly love you, you know that right?”

“I do,” pressing yourself closer to him, pressing him just the barest bit inside you, “And I will spend every one of my days proving how much I love you in return,” able to now hold your cheek as he threatens to make you cry with the sheer magnitude of adoration on his face.

It distracts from the bit of pain that you expected and never truly came. Happily losing yourself in your lovers kiss as he slowly sank into you with a long groan of his own. He tries to keep up with you but fail miserably. Pulling away with a gasp when you clench around him, trying to catch his breath. You wouldn’t blame him for losing himself so quickly, he had made you feel better than you ever had before. That was enough. You open your mouth, ready to tell him such when he ground his hips against yours.

There’s a music in the way your cries meld, your entire body wrapping around him completely as he repeated the movement. Each time he pulls from you just a bit and returns to his seat inside you, over and over. Only when you’ve risen even higher than you had before, to where the stars and moon must rest do you realize that his hips are snap against yours with reckless abandon. Whether it’s his end that brings yours or yours that brings his, neither of you are sure. Only that you are floating together, you have enveloped him completely, heart and soul. You have given him the only thing that is truly yours to give, your trust in this moment where the word control has never existed. His words are a whisper against your pounding heartbeat, need, and promises made for his sake more than yours. 

Until you both gently rock back to your senses, almost. Groggy and heady with each other, he rolls off you, dragging sounds of disappointment from you both. He pulls you close to him, peppering your face with soft kisses until you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Which seemed to be his goal as only then did he stop, though his hold on you tightened.

“That must have been a very good book,” you can’t help the quip.

He nodded, “That was only the first two chapters, my darling wife.”

“Then we are going to need food.”


End file.
